


when a demon gets her wings

by gossamerthoughts



Series: invisible string [4]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: BAMF Mazikeen (Lucifer TV), Episode: s05e09 Family Dinner, Established Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Minor Mazikeen/Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Trixie Espinoza & Mazikeen Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26324566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gossamerthoughts/pseuds/gossamerthoughts
Summary: “I thought the only person who could love me is an angel, because who could love someone without a soul?”In a strange twist of fate, Mazikeen of the Lilim, right-hand woman of the King of Hell, falls in love with Michael the Archangel, the smarmy, up-to-no-good twin brother everyone likes to forget.Set after season 5a finale.
Relationships: Amenadiel & Mazikeen (Lucifer TV), Amenadiel & Michael (Lucifer TV), Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker & Mazikeen, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Ella Lopez & Mazikeen, God & Michael (Lucifer TV), Mazikeen & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Mazikeen (Lucifer TV)/Everyone, Mazikeen/Michael, Michael & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Trixie Espinoza & Mazikeen
Series: invisible string [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924108
Comments: 23
Kudos: 51





	1. prologue: when an angel meets a demon

It starts, like all romances do, when a boy meets a girl.

Well, not quite.

It all starts when an angel meets a demon.

They have had millennia to dance around each other, but Heaven and Hell have separated them. She is born out of darkness and death, a creature beautiful despite everything, but designed for breaking things, not healing them.

He is born out of the creation of the universe, the holiest union between God and Goddess, a beacon of light. The Archangel, the bringer of justice, the warrior in the fight against the dark.

But the Rebellion has broken him, his body as well as his spirit, twisted him into something nearly as bitter and vengeful as she once was. He is filled with a hatred of his brother, the beloved Samael, the one people always love, always want, always  _ desire _ , despite the fact that he is quite literally the devil.

God has imbued Sam with an easy charm, a light-heartedness that draws men and women to him. And what has their dear father bestowed on Michael?

The heaviness of responsibility, the ability to draw out people’s fears, a need to fade into the background even as Sam shines in the light. They always have been two sides of the same coin, but Michael can’t help but feel like he’s been slighted somehow.

That he’s spent his entire existence trying to measure up to someone who looks exactly like him, but whom he will never, ever be.

* * *

Maze has devoted her existence to her king, and my oh my, how much fun they had in Hell. She relished being his right-hand, his favored demon, his most skilled torturer. She is unparalleled in her skills, something that Lucifer knows firsthand — in and out of the bedroom.

But she doesn’t know why she thinks he  _ cares _ . While she was loyal enough to follow him out of Hell and into this strange, annoyingly live-human-filled place called Earth, he’s been ignoring her since he found his detective.

She’s hurt, broken, terrified of being abandoned in this new world, and above all,  _ angry _ . Angry enough to almost kill her king’s beloved Chloe. Almost.

Things change, and one Dr. Linda Martin helps her see this. She becomes  _ friends _ and then roommates with said detective, finds herself strangely attached to the detective’s offspring, and discovers a true friend in Linda.

Despite it all, Maze still feels like she’s missing something. That there’s something terribly wrong with her (other than the fact that she literally has no soul) for everyone to find their happy endings while she gets abandoned, time after time again.

It has been said that hurt brings people together more than happiness, and that, my dear readers, is how Maze and Michael begin a wary partnership.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another brainchild of mine that apparently is so strange that there are absolutely no tags/relationships for it yet on here??? I'm a big Ella/Michael person (thanks fanfic) but idk why this popped into my brain.


	2. the face of fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What about you?” she says instead. “How do you expect anyone to love you when all you reflect is their fears?”

_ “It is better to be feared than to be loved.” — Niccolo Machiavelli _

* * *

Blinding light fills the precinct, a light so heavenly and divine that it makes Maze nauseous. She’s on her knees still, knocked over by the brothers’ fight, but the light keeps her own. Gripping her beloved knives protectively, she cracks a wary eye open; her jaw follows.

Because standing there on the very steps that she’s dragged her bounties down, is Lucifer’s dad. God Himself.

Now, Maze isn’t really impressed by anyone other than herself, but she’s never seen the old man up close. No, she prefers the dark, dusty, desolate crevices of Hell, where she reigns supreme next to Lucifer. But there’s something about the light that draws her in, after the initial pain. Something, that if she had a soul, she’d very much like to bask in.

But hey. Everyone knows demons are soulless. Lucifer’s made that very clear.

The three brothers have identical expressions on their faces as they gape at their father, though after a millisecond, Maze can tell that they’re feeling very different things.

Amenadiel feels guilty for fighting in front of his dad; he’s always wanted approval, that goody-two-shoes. Lucifer is shocked that his dad’s finally acknowledged him in some way, finally spoken to him after all these eons. Michael… well, Michael’s always been the hardest to read, his personality so very different from his devilish twin’s though they share the same dark, handsome features.

If Maze could sum it all up in one word, though, she’d say that Michael looks… resigned.

_ Hey!  _ she wants to yell at him,  _ just because your daddy showed up doesn’t mean that we lost. _

But Lucifer and Amenadiel are the two favorites — the wayward son who still has his father’s love and the First Born Son of God who can always be counted upon do to the right thing.

Michael, like Maze, is often just a disappointment.

This is not her family, though, so she stays on the ground while God gives his children a stern talking to. The dice have been cast; Lucifer gets his happy ending (for now, Maze suspects there’s something God’s holding back), Amenadiel can raise his child in peace, and Michael is exiled to the city he detests so much to live a life alongside the brother he’s resented for millennia.

Well, that’s something new.

Lucifer’s been so caught up in himself and his detective that he hasn’t noticed Maze’s change of heart, though his face when she stopped him from punching Michael pricked her heart with a needle of guilt. Truly, Maze is as angry as anyone that Chloe was kidnapped, and is more than willing to cut the balls off of Pete (even if he didn’t kidnap her like they’d all originally thought), but she’s been overlooked by her former best friend so often that she feels like she’s being taken for granted.

Though the idiot has no idea she feels this way.

And though she knows he cares for her in his own Lucifer-ish way, Maze can’t help but feel hurt. She opens her mouth to apologize as they start cleaning up the mess in the precinct, but he glares at her. “Go away, Mazikeen. I don’t want to hear it.”

She snaps her mouth shut and grabs Michael’s arm. “Let’s go then,” she snarls.

Michael looks surprised for a moment that someone’s actually touching him, then nods. “Let’s.”

* * *

They’re in a random luxury hotel room eating pizza and drinking a bottles of liquor she's pilfered from Lux; she’s wrapped in a fluffy towel and looking so decidedly un-demonlike that Michael has to laugh.

“What?” she snaps, her mouth full of pizza.

“I never thought I’d be eating pizza in bed with Mazikeen of the Lilim while she’s wearing something other than skintight leather,” he snorted.

She swallows her bite and bats her lashes at him. “Would you like me to be wearing something else?” she purrs.

He swallows as well. Hard. “Er, no, that’s not what I meant.”

Maze shrugs, returns to eating her pizza. “I don’t have a change of comfy clothes on me. And as much as I like my leather, I don’t want to lounge in it when it’s been all sweaty and kinda bloody.”

Michael ponders this as he takes another sweet ‘n salty bite (he’s a pineapple pizza fan, something that Maze tells him he deserves a place in Hell for).

“Why?” Maze says abruptly.

“Excuse me?”

“Why do all this? What was your ‘big plan’? Try and take over Lucifer’s life again? Ruin it?”

“If you could be someone else, wouldn’t you?” he asked softly.

Maze thinks about it, thinks about the time she spent in Canada chasing down Rivers, the feeling of home she experienced as he drew her into his arms and they kissed in the middle of that bloody cold, snowy forest. His offer for her to run away with him.

Her roots, her people, pulled her back to Los Angeles, but for a moment, she could see it — someone of her own, someone who made her smile and made her feel like she had a soul. Someone that almost matched her wit, her ferocity, even though he was a human. Someone who challenged her, but also cared about her.

But Mazikeen of the Lillm would never traverse around Canada or even the world with a human. Mazikeen Smith might, but that wasn’t who Maze was. Not really.

Michael’s studying her with those deep brown eyes that are like Lucifer’s in every way except for what they hold. Lucifer’s are brightly curious, burning with desire, malicious, childishly playful. He’s like the fires of Hell — hot, unpredictable, capricious.

But Michael is like ice, cool, patient, an observer from the shadows. He looks at her like he’s trying to figure her out, trying to analyze her from every point of view. Whereas the Devil relied on his instinct, the Archangel relied on his logic.

“You understand.” It wasn’t a question. Michael already knows she understands. He’s felt the fear rise up in her, the fear of being abandoned, unloved, left alone for eternity while her friends pair up and have her happy endings. The fear that she may be, after all, just a monster doomed to live out her life in perpetual misery. The fear that there is something deeply wrong with her that breaks everything she touches.

Maze shrugs again, unwilling to admit anything to the angel.

“Aren’t you scared of me?” he whispers.

She purposely takes another bite (jalapeno with sausage because she likes the burn) and chews excruciatingly slowly before answering. “I’m not scared of anything,” she scoffs.

“Wrong. I can feel the fear rolling off of you. I know fear and anger is what drove you to me.”

She’s quiet this time, dark eyes bright. He thinks for a fleeting moment that she’s beautiful, too beautiful to be a demon, too beautiful to have gotten caught up with his hedonistic brother.

“What about you?” she says instead. “How do you expect anyone to love you when all you reflect is their fears?”

It’s his turn to be silent for a beat too long. It cuts him deep, that question. Something that he’s thought about far too many times to be healthy. It seems like Maze, like Lucifer, knows that words can cut deeper than anything else, knows just where to slice to apply the maximum amount of pain.

“I’d rather be feared than be loved,” he says finally.

Maze finally grins. “Amen,” she crows, and winks. 


	3. devil may care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maze and Michael lay low until things reach a confrontation with Lucifer; Maze thinks too much and Michael tries not to think at all.

_ “A person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn and not easily mended.”  
— Atonement _

* * *

Even after all these years on Earth, Maze can still feel her tether to the King of Hell, a magnetic pull that allows her to keep track of him wherever, whenever. It’s what allowed her to track him down when he was trapped in the freezer by the Sinnerman, allowed her to threaten Reese when he was creeping around, allowed her to save Lucifer’s ass time and time again, despite his assurances that no, he does not need her. Usually, Maze likes the feeling of connection to the devil, likes the comfort that comes with knowing he’s there, there and alive and wreaking havoc somewhere.

But lately… things have changed.

She remembers a time when she thought she loved him, before she knew what love truly was. Now, she knows she’s confused love and devotion, confused loyalty with passion. They are too similar to ever be compatible, and besides, they both know that’s not what they wanted.

Then she thinks of Amenadiel, the once-haughty, deeply self-righteous angel, and a part of her aches for the comfort of being with someone so  _ good _ , so caring. He was the opposite of Lucifer — willing to listen to her and even ask her questions. Imagine that, a demon sleeping with the firstborn Son of God.

But Lucifer had broken them, and although Amenadiel had forgiven her betrayal, she knew that this wasn’t it for them. He was simply too good, too pure, and she didn’t want to mar that.

Eve. Eve still lingers in the crevices of Maze’s mind, a pair of doe-like brown eyes and apple-scented wavy hair. A brightness that sparked the room, a charm and innocence that was a strange combination of Chloe, Lucifer, and Ella all in one. The First Woman had a vulnerability that made you want to protect her at all cost, but also a backbone, which was refreshing.

Maze can’t help but think about their time with a considerable amount of bitterness — Eve’s obsession with getting Lucifer back had allowed Maze to get close to her, but also stopped them from having any real relationship.

She deserved better than Lucifer, and they both knew that. Hell, even Lucifer knew that.

The only person who doesn’t bear the stain of Lucifer’s meddling is Rivers, the teddy bear-like almost-serial killer she’d tracked down in Canada. He was like Amenadiel, but more daring, she thinks, remembering his warm eyes and soft hugs.

“What are you thinking about?” Michael asks curiously. He has his wings fully unfolded and spread, his injured wing shedding grey feathers as he takes deep, even breaths. It’s more comfortable like this on his bad days, to have his wings out. Normally, they’re a point of insecurity for him — he hates for anyone else to see him like this — but with Maze, it’s somehow different.

Strange.

“Nothing,” Maze answers. Too quickly. Michael narrows his eyes, but doesn’t press the subject. “I’m bored,” she announces, and eyes him a little hungrily, like a panther stalking its prey.

If Michael were a human male, he would’ve gulped. But he is St. Michael, the Archangel, and so he keeps an impassive look on his face as he replies, “What do you want me to do about it?”

A slow smile spreads over Maze’s face. Looking like the cat who got the cream, she sidles closer to him and practically purrs. “I think you know what you can do.”

They are so close he can feel her cinnamon-scented breath washing over his face in intoxicating waves, can see the exact line where her berry-colored lipstick meets her skin, can hear the steady beating of her demon heart. Michael wants to close his eyes and dive in, to free-fall in the experience that is Mazikeen.

But unlike his twin, he does not give in so easily to desires.

He pulls away a fraction of an inch, and he swears disappointment flickers over Maze’s face for a second. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mazikeen,” he says steadily.

If he is on a precipice, Maze shoves him off of it. “Sure you do,” she says huskily, before she’s on top of him and crashing her lips to his. She’s all hard muscles and soft skin, full lips and searing kisses. He wants this, wants her more than he can even fathom, because Dad-forbid it’s been  _ eons _ really, and there is something in Maze that ignites a fire in him.

And they both burn, and burn, and burn.

* * *

_ "Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and a horrible tempest, this shall be the portion of their cup."  
— Psalm 11:6 _

They meet outside the comforts of Lux. Normally Maze would sneak in (not that it’s hard, Lucifer literally allows anyone into his home due to his stupid penthouse elevator) and lounge in the leather armchair with a drink in hand, but these aren’t old times.

She’s gone a step too far in betraying him and siding with Michael, and they both know it.

So here they are, in some dark alley like two common criminals, facing each other warily.

“Maze, why?” he asks, his voice gentler than she’s ever heard it.

“ _Because_ , Lucifer. We’ve literally been through Hell together, and ever since I’ve stopped being your  _ good little demon,  _ you’ve pretended like I don’t matter! Hell, even before that, you pretended like I don’t matter. You’re always running off to solve mysteries, always talking about yourself, and you never, ever want to listen to me. And I  _ know _ you’ve been keeping secrets from me. I had to pay Trix to get it out of you!”

He glares at her, his irises rimmed with red. With fury. “It’s not like I run off to go fuck around, Mazikeen,” he says coldly. “I’m helping solve crimes.”

“That’s not the part I’m talking about,” she says, voice filled with equally as much ice. “You literally don’t care about me, and I’ve saved your ass time and time again, you self-aggrandizing, narcissistic idiot! And you…” she takes a steadying breath, “... you hid my mother from me.”

“Oh, someone’s learning big girl words from the doctor, I see,” he snarls. “And I made  _ a promise _ to Lillith. And I do not break my promises.”

Her hands itch with the need to bury a knife in his stupid chest. They’ve always been like this, two twin sparks filled with too much fire, acting on impulse, acting on emotion. But her body betrays her and instead, her eyes fill with tears at the thought of never getting closure with her mother. Never getting to say  _ I hate you  _ or even  _ I love you  _ if that’s what she truly desired.

Lucifer’s eyes soften at the sight of his favorite demon crying —  _ when has he ever seen Maze cry?  _ — and he tentatively wraps her in a hug. Gentleness is new in their relationship; theirs is one built on brimstone and fire, on violence and fury. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into her hair.

Maze pulls back and smirks. “Excuse me?”

His glare returns, but there’s no bite behind it this time. “You heard me.”

“All the time with Decker is making you soft,” she teases.

They’re quiet for a moment before — “All I really wanted was a friend, Lucifer. For you to be there for me. And even though Linda’s my best friend,  _ you’re _ my oldest friend. And you weren’t there when I needed you. Even though I had to  _ ask _ . I shouldn’t have to beg for your friendship, Lucifer.”

Sometimes, Lucifer thinks, he forgets that Maze has emotions and needs too. He forgets that they’ve  _ both _ changed from their time on Earth, both changed thanks to these bloody infuriating yet impossibly endearing humans. She’s so strong all the time that he forgets she needs someone to be strong for her, too.

He doesn’t apologize again, but instead pulls her back into another hug — firmer, this time, more sure. Maze sniffles and smiles, feeling utterly unlike herself but utterly at peace.

They don’t notice a pair of dark brown eyes watching them from a distance. The wind is soft, but strong, and had the demon and the fallen angel paid more attention, they would’ve seen that the breeze carried a single grey feather, making its way from its downcast host to the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm rewatching (omg, I know) Lucifer and it's actually so sad the way Lucifer treats Maze, even though I love him. So, here it is.


	4. meet Hell's most brutal torturer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the most awkward family dinner...well, in all of eternity.
> 
> (We get some Deckerstar in this one! And angsty Michael!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on this quote from one of the Lucifer peeps: “This is a family story. Dad’s home and he’s not happy with what his kids have been up to.”
> 
> [Season 5b 1st episode name: Family Dinner]

“Meet Hell’s most brutal torturer.”

— Lucifer, s3 ep. 10 _the sin bin_

* * *

The next morning dawns cold and misty, the ocean fog rolling up past the Santa Monica Pier and deep into the bowels of Los Angeles. It’s the kind of weather Los Angeles is known for — the quiet dreaminess of the ethereal morning, a muted kind of fog that burns away before noon, giving way to the bright rays of the sun.

It reminds Michael a bit of Heaven.

The Silver City is quite unreachable for now, after that little stunt he pulled in which Father had to intervene. Of _course_ Father did — even after Lucifer’s fall from Heaven, his twin brother still remained his Father’s favorite son to watch. And Dad forbid poor wittle Lucifer got hurt.

Quite literally.

Michael cracks an eye open to look at the demon sleeping by his side. Her eyelashes flutter gently against her caramel skin, a soft growl escaping from her lips as she twitches and mumbles, “Lucifer…”

The fissures in Michael’s heart begin to widen, salt water on a wound. Maze has been loyal to Lucifer for eons. What a fool he had been to think that the promise of a soul and the honest truth would sway her to choose _him_ permanently over his Dad-forsaken brother?

They _always_ choose Lucifer. The selfish bastard breaks everything he touches, and yet. Everyone goes running back to him.

Shoving that thought aside, Michael tries to come up with a different plan. He’s a planner as much as his twin is not — he goes over details meticulously, running through each and every scenario in his head, so much so that Lucifer once teased him, saying, _who do you think you are, Brother? Uriel with his crazy need to see patterns?_

But he has no plan now, his Grand Plan shattered to pieces by the unexpected and unwelcome arrival of Dad.

 _My son!_ a voice booms in his head.

 _Speaking of the...well, not Devil,_ he thinks wryly.

_Michael, we will be meeting at Samael’s penthouse for dinner tonight at 5. Bring Mazikeen of the Lilim._

Michael fights the urge to roll his eyes. All these years in which Dad barely spoke to anyone, not even him, his right-hand angel, and now Dad chooses to use his holy telepathy in a dinner invitation?

He checks his watch. 12pm. What does one _wear_ exactly to a Holy Dinner with your broken family? Rubbing a tired hand over his face, Michael winces as a sharp pain shoots through his right shoulder blade and wing. All that spying yesterday had aggravated things.

Maze is snoring now, her face more at peace. Michael is loath to wake her up, and yet...they have things to do. Heavenly Dinners to get ready for. So he shakes her shoulder roughly.

She bolts upright a blade instantly in her hand. It’s resting at his throat by the time he blinks again. “Oh, it’s just you,” she says as her brain catches up with her body. “I don’t like being woken up,” she adds with a glare.

He shrugs, trying to hide the pain that washes over him as he does so. “Wakey-wakey, Sleeping Beauty. Dad’s invited us to dinner and I have to find an appropriate gift. And also figure out what it is he and my siblings are up to.”

“ _Us?_ ”

Michael stands now, straightening the sheets and tucking the comforter in, though he knows there must be humans whose job it is to do this. “Both of us.”

Maze frowns, fingering her blade as she thinks. “What does your Dad want with _me_?”

“Who knows. Now seriously, get up. We can at least get some food.” He can’t help it if a heavy dose of sarcasm and a hint of bitterness crawl into his voice. _He_ isn’t known for being the charming twin after all.

* * *

Halfway across the city, a Miracle and a Devil are slumbering peacefully amidst grey Egyptian Cotton sheets, their limbs sweetly entangled. Half asleep, Chloe nuzzles into Lucifer’s chest, relishing in the warmth his bare skin provides. “ _Hello_ , Detective,” he yawns, looking adorably sexy with his rumpled dark hair and rough morning voice.

“Good morning, Lucifer,” she replies, unable to stop the smile spreading over her face. It warms her like sunshine, liquid gold seeping through her veins.

He plants a kiss on her forehead, then rolls them over until he’s hovering above her on his palms. “Now, since we have the day off, let’s have a very _indulgent_ moment, shall we?”

Chloe responds by grabbing his head and pulling his lips down to hers.

“Oh, you _naughty_ girl,” he smirks, before dipping his back down and meeting her soft lips once more. He’s making his way down her lithe body, being _very_ indulgent indeed, until —

A familiar voice invades Lucifer’s head at the most unwelcome time.

 _Samael,_ God booms, his voice echoing rather painfully in Lucifer’s brain, _we’ll be coming over to your dwelling at 5 tonight for a family dinner. Your Miracle is invited, of course. I am most eager to get to know her._

“Lucifer? Is something wrong?” Chloe asks worriedly, her brow creasing in concern.

“Bloody Hell,” he groans, rolling off of her. “Dear old Dad just cockblocked me. Come on, Detective — we have to get ready. Apparently, I’ve just been volunteered to host a grand old family dinner.”

“Huh,” Chloe cocks her head, but doesn’t say anything more.

“Detective? Have I broken you? I just told you we’re invited to a celestial family dinner.”

A bubble of mirth escapes from Chloe then; it quickly turns into a nearly hysterical fit of giggles. “N-no, it’s just that your dad, who is also God, just voluntold you to host dinner at your nightclub for him and some angels!”

He stares at her for a beat, then shakes his head in amusement. He can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy inside, like those horrendous plush toys the Offspring liked, whenever he sees his Detective happy.

Emotions are strange.

“Race you to the shower!” Chloe says as she takes off at a sprint. A laugh escapes from Lucifer too at this, and he follows her in, thinking that he at least could start the day off on a good note, since it very likely was not going to end on a happy one.

* * *

5pm rolls around and Lux has been transformed into a veritable celestial banquet hall. Lucifer’s couches are pushed to the side to make way for a long table and seven chairs. Lucifer had spent an hour debating between hiring a chef and cooking it all himself and pretending that he didn’t quite care either way, but Chloe had finally had enough of his waffling and she ordered him to stay and cook while she got everything else set up.

So, armed with what looked like half of Erewhon, Lucifer had set to work.

The result is astonishing — Chloe hadn’t known Lucifer could cook like that. Though she supposes, after an eternity he should be fairly talented.

The table is set with a white tablecloth and beautiful gold-rimmed china, the bar stocked with wine and whiskey. One by one, the guests roll in — Linda and Amenadiel and baby Charlie first, to Chloe’s delight and Lucifer’s relief. If Linda is overwhelmed by her first meeting with her Heavenly Father-in-law, she doesn’t show it. Chloe gives her mad kudos for that.

Maze and Michael appear second; she’s dressed in head-to-toe black leather as usual. It’s quite shiny, and Chloe suspects it’s been thoroughly cleaned. Even demons wanted to look their best for God, she supposes.

Chloe surreptitiously checks Maze for knives when she hugs her, while Lucifer inclines a nod to his former right-hand woman. Michael hangs back behind Maze, looking deeply uncertain, and if Chloe hadn’t been so goddamn _pissed_ at him she would’ve felt bad.

But the asshole had kidnapped her, so she feels zero pity. Zero.

It gives her a start to see that he is dressed up for the occasion. Unlike Maze, he’s _not_ dressed in his typical tweed jacket and turtleneck combo. No, he’s stolen a page from Lucifer’s book and dressed in a grey three-piece. He does, however, forego the perfectly-folded pocket square that Lucifer always boasts about, but the resemblance is eerie.

Chloe narrows her eyes, her hand itching toward the gun she doesn’t have on her at the moment, remembering a time when Michael pretended to be Lucifer in this very penthouse. Lucifer’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Ah, Mikey. Trying to emulate the best, are we now?”

Michael, surprising, does not engage. He silently hands Amenadiel a new toy for Charlie and Lucifer a bottle of high-end whiskey; both brothers accept his gifts with hard eyes and an uneasy silence.

“Man, this is awkward already,” Maze says gleefully, rubbing her hands together. “This is going to be _so much fun_!”

Chloe glares, Lucifer snorts, Michael rolls his eyes, Amenadiel takes a deep inhale, Linda smiles, and Charlie… well, Charlie cries.

So Lucifer is rocking his nephew with his Devil face on, while Michael and Maze have started in on the alcohol already. Amenadiel checks his watch — _H_ _e’s late,_ he thinks, but everyone knows it too.

“Just like Dad, to tell us all to show up and then be late to his own party,” Lucifer snipes, handing Charlie to Linda and rolling his eyes.

Right on cue, a silver mist fills the penthouse, followed by a blinding light. When the brightness clears, God Himself is standing there in front of the penthouse elevator.

“Hello, children,” he says benevolently. “Let us feast.”

And so they sit, serving themselves family-style from the giant serving platters in the middle of the table (Lucifer has refused to hire servers and refused to allow him or Chloe do any of the serving). Silence reigns as everyone stares down at their plates, waiting for someone to take the first bite.

“So… should we pray or… something?” Chloe tries, before clapping a hand over her mouth and coughing embarrassedly.

“And that’s your precious Miracle, Dad,” Michael snorts.

Lucifer is halfway out of his seat before Chloe can stop him; she tugs him back down.

“Now, Michael, be kind to your brother and Chloe Decker,” God says in the same perfectly nice tone. It creeps Chloe out a little, to be honest.

The meal passes with them chewing, soft music playing in the background. It’s only after a few songs that Chloe realizes — Lucifer has chosen this dinner’s soundtrack to be quite obviously devil-themed.

“Dearie me!” Lucifer exclaims suddenly. “I haven’t even made introductions. Dad, meet Mazikeen, who once was Hell’s most brutal torturer. Linda Martin, who is Amenadiel’s baby mama and my current therapist. And my Detective, of course. But you already know her, since you quite literally put her in my path. Now, care to explain? And for Dad’s sake, please do not call her a Miracle!”

God takes a breath languidly, as if this is just another Thursday night for him. “Patience, my son,” he says. “All will be clear in time.”

Six sets of eyes stare at him. “Why the bloody Hell did you invite us here then?” Lucifer demands. “If not for some answers?”

God shrugs, something that looks strangely _mortal_ on the Heavenly Father, and sips his wine. “I thought we could use some family bonding. Besides, I wanted to meet your mates.”

Michael finds himself gaping at his father, then at Maze. The demon has a similar look on her face, though now she looks like she very much wants to throw one of her Hell-forged blades at his father.

“My _what_?” Michael splutters.

“Don’t worry, son. I have become more… accepting after Uriel’s death. You may mate with whomever you choose, even if she is not an angel.” God looks around the table. “Though I suppose that can be said for all of you.”

Maze downs her glass of wine and stands up. “Michael and I are _not_ mates,” she spits. “I won’t let you control me.”

“That’s my Mazikeen,” Lucifer says smugly, leaning back and sipping his whiskey.

Michael leans across the table. “She’s not _yours_ , Sam.”

“Don’t call me Sam!”

Chloe stands too. “I don’t need your approval!” she declares, blue eyes alight with righteous fury. Lucifer thinks she may as well have been an avenging angel. He wonders if his father sees it as well.

“That’s my Detective,” he coos.

Chloe gives him a look and rolls her eyes, but lets it slide. It's kind of endearing, after all.

Amenadiel and Linda just sigh. All the yelling’s woken the baby again.

“Well, isn’t this nice?” God says, finishing his wine and standing. “Thanks for inviting us to dinner, Samael. Your cooking’s quite improved.”

And with that, he disappears, leaving six very confused and annoyed people and one loudly crying baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking of writing an extended version of this from Chloe/Lucifer's POV - anyone interested?


End file.
